


Yours is My Body to Hold

by potentialfordisaster



Category: Actor RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Chris as a surfer, Emotions, Fluff, Kiind of domestic fluff, M/M, Tom as a businessman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 04:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2608592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potentialfordisaster/pseuds/potentialfordisaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris still remembered the first time he saw Tom, all serious and angular lines, perfect cheekbones and expressive eyes, hair combed precisely in a way to flatten his curls.</p><p>Chris had thought him a spoiled jerk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours is My Body to Hold

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, thanks for stopping by! This is a very quick fic, which I wrote without revising so sorry if there are any mistakes or if it seems a little disconnected - or too emotional. This idea came to me out of the blue a few months ago and today, after having spent most part of my time reading hiddlesworth fics, I decided to write it, though it didn't come out the way I intended to. I'm thinking about perhaps writing a sequel but only if you'd like it so, please, leave a comment if you can, I'll be very grateful!

Chris inhaled deeply, the fading, barely there essence of sex mixed with expensive perfume alighting his senses.  
  
Tom lay curled, arms around Chris' arm and torso as if he was a teddy bear, and Tom, the innocent boy holding it to sleep. But Chris he was far from innocent. Although looking this way, Tom could fit into an angel costume alright, his untamable curls glowing under the sunlight, his skin pale from hours spent inside a building.  
  
Tom was a businessman, actually, he was one of the wealthiest businessman in his country. He always wore fitting, expensive suits, expensive watches, expensive underwear – Chris smirked knowingly -, expensive everything.  
  
Chris still remembered the first time he saw Tom, all serious and angular lines, perfect cheekbones and expressive eyes, hair combed precisely in a way to flatten his curls.  
  
Chris had thought him a spoiled jerk.  
  
They met through a mutual friend, a British guy that came to Australia a few years ago and had glued himself to Chris once he found out he could surf, insisting Chris should teach him. The blond Australian, giving in to the man's wishes, had ended up with his business card and an invitation to go visit him in the UK whenever. Chris threw out the business card, an Edward something, that did something important judging by the card's design. Looking back at it now, he remembered faintly of the man rambling on and on, saying he worked for a big company that had a terrible rival in the market in the form of a young man who had recently substituted his father as the CEO.  
  
It wasn't until two months later that Liam, his brother, decided to go to London to meet his online girlfriend. Chris, as he had nothing better to do and still had to supervise his younger, underage brother, went along.  
  
He was walking down the street in a usual cloudy London day when he passed in front of an upscale restaurant, a group of men in impeccable suits standing outside and talking amongst themselves. One of them did a double take when Chris walked past, shouting his name. Chris turned around and immediatly recognized him, the insufferable Brit that he tried to teach how to surf.  
  
The man hugged Chris as if they had been best friends through their whole lives, apologizing for his lack of manners and introducing the group around him. All the men looked indifferently at him over their pointed noses, until Tom stepped forward to shake his hand, eyeing his clothes critically.  
  
The rest of the group took their respective cabs and left and Chris stood awkwardly next to the man who insisted he should call him Ed and Tom, who looked like he couldn't be in worse company. Next thing he knew, Ed had invited him along for a couple of pints to celebrate his and Tom's contract. He was about to make up some excuse, seeing as Tom visibly cringed at the invitation, but Ed was too damn insistent.  
  
They went to a pub, Ed excusing himself to talk to another acquaintace of his, leaving Tom and Chris by themselves. And the rest was history.  
  
They had been dating for one year now, Chris visiting Tom sporadically with the money he made with his surfboarding shops. They were currently at his house in Australia, Tom having taken a deserved vacation.  
  
Tom stirred in his sleep and Chris kissed his temple. He rose, pulling on his boxers and going to prepare breakfast, not before pecking a pale ankle and tucking it under the duvet.  
  
Chris whistled, patting Thor, his golden retriever that came bounding down the hallway when he heard the door opening.  
  
"Hey, boy", Thor barked in response, trying to lick his face. "Be quiet, ok? Tom's still sleeping." He ruffled his head playfully and went to kitchen.  
  
He washed his hands and rummaged through the fridge, deciding what to make.  
  
Chris was buttering some toasts after preparing coffee when he heard Thor's happy bark and the sound of footsteps. He smiled, turning around slowly to meet Tom, wearing one of Chri's shirts, reaching mid-thigh. Oh, Tom knew exactly what it did to Chris to see him in his clothes, smiling wisely below the hand that scratched his bleary eye.  
  
"Morning," Chris greeted, closing the distance between them to give Tom a kiss.  
  
Tom made a disgusted sound and turned his head, Chris kissing his cheek.  
  
"Morning breath", Tom explained, Chris wrapping his arms tightly around him to bring him flush to his chest.  
  
"Oh, yeah? You don't like me just because of my morning breath, now?", he asked playfully, not resisting and kissing his boyfriend's neck.  
  
"Yeah," Tom said, matter of factly, sighing contentedly under the caress. He ran his hands over Chris' chest, stopping at his biceps and humming appreciatively. "But there are other things I like you for."  
  
Chris gasped mockingly. "You self-interested little nimph. Is that the only reason you're with me, then? Because of my body?" He bit his shoulder through the shirt and Tom squeaked. "Go eat", he tilted his head towards the mug of coffee and plate of breakfast he left in the counter for Tom, slapping his ass playfully. He went to continue to butter the toasts, the silence dragging.  
  
He sipped his own mug of coffee and turned to accompany Tom when he saw him playing with his eggs, looking pensive.  
  
"Baby," he called and Tom made a non committal sound. "What's wrong?"  
  
Tom shook his head, smiling. "It's nothing, it's-", he hesitated, laughing embarrassedly and not looking at his eyes, "it's stupid."  
  
"Stupid how?" Chris asked, hand reaching to play with his curls and watching his face.  
  
"It's-", Tom sighed, straightening his back and looking directly at him. "I found out people have been saying some things that bother me."  
  
"What sort of things?", Chris took a bite out of his fried eggs.  
  
"Things about you." This had Chris pausing, chewing thoughtfully before looking at Tom square in the eye.  
  
Tom's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. "It's stupid, very stupid. My PA told me once and I thought it was absurd. I-"  
  
"What is it, Tom?" Chris asked, sounding decisive. Now it was his turn to avoid Tom's face, sipping his coffee peacefully as if Tom had been telling him a very uninteresting story.  
  
"They say you're with me only because of my money." He blurted out, looking almost sorry afterwards.  
  
Chris sighed, not saying anything. These sort of stories always came up. Tom's family came from old money and he was just a muscly Australian surfer.  
  
"Chris, I don't believe them. I never would. But my parents-" Tom tried to say, looking apologetic.  
  
"If this is about your family then, please, don't say anything anymore." Chris cut in, bothered.  
  
Tom's family hated him and they both knew that. Firstly because they couldn't accept Tom was gay and kept trying to blame it on him. Secondly because, according to them, he was a nobody, a boy toy from the other side of the world Tom had probably found in a dumpster. He didn't know how far their hatred for him went, and honestly, he didn't want to know. He stopped trying to get into their good graces when they humiliated him when Tom invited him to spend Christmas together at the Hiddleston's mansion.  
  
Chris had left before supper and the rest of the night was overshadowed by a terrible headache and Tom's insistent calls, crying and begging Chris to please forgive him.  
  
Chris remained as far away from them as possible, but he never thought they would have the audacity to poison Tom with their talk.  
  
Tom sighed brokenly and Chris prayed to god he wasn't crying. He hated it when Tom cried.  
  
"Chris, please." He asked, voice sounding firmer. "I don't believe them."  
  
"Then why does it bother you?" Chris gave a final gulp of his coffee and went to the sink to wash the dishes, back turned to Tom.  
  
"Because I don't want anyone telling any lies about you, Chris. I wish they could know you like I do, know how wonderful you are, how you'd never subject yourself to these kind of acts." Tom said, a little desperately.  
  
"Tom, I know you're lying." He stated calmly, the sound of the water running masking Tom's whine. "Do you know why? Because you never said it's not true, or that they are wrong, you just said you didn't believe them."  
  
Tom remained silent, looking aghast at Chris' back.  
  
"Chris", he called, raising slowly from his seat.  
  
Chris finished and turned the faucet, drying his hands on the dishcloth. He turned around, face devoid of his usual morning joy.  
  
"Tell me what ails you, baby." He said, walking up to and cupping his cheek fondly. "What is truly bothering you?"  
  
Tom leaned into the touch, feeling vulnerable but secure. Chris would always help him.  
  
"I don't understand it sometimes." He said, gripping Chris' wrist. "I live so far away, Chris."  
  
"Tom," Chris shook his head. They had that talk before but he thought he had eliminated any doubt from Tom's mind. Apparently, it wasn't the case.  
  
"No, please, let me finish.", he pleaded, eyes wet and lips rosy. How could Chris ever deny him anything? "You have your own job, you live near the beach, Chris, you're beautiful, you could have any woman or man from here, live your life, have your own family. I don't know why you'd stick with me, a busy man that can never come to visit you, who lives at the other side of the family, whose family can not accept you."  
  
"Then you'd rather believe I'd risk all that just so I could have your money?" Chris asked and Tom didn't say anything, just kept looking at him with those impossibly glistening blue eyes. Chris sighed. "Tom, when have I ever used your money?"  
  
Tom whimpered like the conversation made him extremely uncomfortable.  
  
"Tell me. What kind of advantages do I get from your financial status? I never used your money, Tom. I don't need that part of you. I need you, I love you, Tom, not your money or your cars or your houses, nor your family's." Chris said, bringing their foreheads closer. "I'm not giving up my life to be with you, Tom, you're my life."  
  
Tom smiled minimally and Chris hugged him.  
  
“I love you, Tom. I love you. How many times do I need to say it for you to understand, your hard headed idiot? My idiot.” He kissed him noisily, drawing back to see his face.  
  
Tom smiled, sniffing and looking down shyly, nodding. “I'm sorry.”  
  
“No need to apologize. Just promise me you won't scare me like that again. Promise me whenever something bothers you, you'll come to me and tell me, okay? Even if it hurts me, even if I'm the cause. Okay?”  
  
“Okay.” Tom wrapped his arms around his shoulders, seemingly not wanting to let go of him. “I'm hungry.”  
  
Chris chuckled. “Well, I made you breakfast but someone was too busy having a meltdown to notice my chivalry.”  
  
“Hm, what a terrible human being.” Tom murmured, kissing his earlobe and slidding his hands through his back.  
  
Chris moaned happily. “I agree. I think I shall punish him.”  
  
Tom shivered. “Shall you? Hm, intersting, and may I know what kind of punishment do you have in mind?”  
  
Chris gripped Tom's buttocks, fondling and lifting him, Tom yelping but wrapping his long legs around his torso. “Oh, baby.” Chris murmured hotly against his ear. “I think I don't have way with words. Let's make a deal, hn?”  
  
Tom smiled wickedly down at him. “Elucidate your terms, my love.”  
  
“How about instead of telling you, I take you back to the bedroom and fuck your brains out?”  
  
Tom hissed, his cock filling rapidly. “Yes.”

Tom giggled as Chris turned them around and kicked the door shut, Thor barking after them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! My grandfather had a dog named Thor, he was German Shepherd, though he was very evil and tended to bite and kill the other dogs. When I was around five years old I asked my grandfather why he had named it Thor and he said it was after the god of thunder. I was very confused at the time because I thought Zeus was the only god of thunder. Anyway, mythology confusion. Please, have in mind that English is not my mother language, so I apologize for any mistakes.


End file.
